


As It Was

by Queerapika



Category: Hunter X Hunter
Genre: Alternarive Universe - Pokémon Trainers, M/M, Rivals to Lovers, Trans Kurapika
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-17
Updated: 2019-09-23
Packaged: 2020-09-05 22:21:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,223
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20280781
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Queerapika/pseuds/Queerapika
Summary: To have a rival - a true rival - is an enticing thing. It makes you feel special, important, larger-than-life. There's nothing quite like it. It's a race to the top, yes, but it's also the fast-paced dance of two trainers who challenge one another to become a better person, a stronger trainer.Somewhere along the way, looking for their place in life, Leorio and Kurapika have drifted apart. While Kurapika moved on to conquer Kalos and become a pokémon champion, Leorio made himself scarce.Now, after almost six years, Kurapika returns to Alola and faces Team Skull in Po Town, where he grew up. Struggling to accept how much this place has fallen apart, each step takes him closer to a painful reunion.





	1. Chapter 1

Rain pours down heavily on the roof of a mansion that seems to slouch like an old man. It has seen better days: the windows are cracked, the paint peels off every wooden frame and its new residents don't seem to give a damn about keeping it whole.

The mansion is the biggest building in this abandoned, desolate town, and it hurts Kurapika to look at what has become of Po Town in just a few years. A run-down, withered image of what it used to be. When he was still a child growing into a sulking teenager, this place has housed a lively community of historians and weavers, bug-enthusiasts and breeders. People driven by their curiosity and passion.

Now, only members of Team Skull roam the streets, disturbing the ghosts of memories with every slouching step they take. He grits his teeth at the thought of them. And he is not alone in his disdain.

"I can't believe these grunts made us pay for using their PokéCenter!", Killua complains and adjusts his snapback as if it could protect him from the downpour. "That's so low."

"Nothing stopping you from taking a Charizard back to town," Kurapika remarks. "And besides, it's not like we lack the money."

"Yeah but it's not about the money, it's about the principle," Killua says and kicks a lump of soggy grass. Very, very carefully, so as not to get mud on his riduclously flashy and inappropriately expensive turbo shoes. Killua's family is one of the wealthiest of the Kanto region, and has provided four generations of poison gym leaders thus far, the current one being Killua's father, Silva. Kurapika suspects that they could _buy_ a PokéCenter with Killua's pocket money alone. 

"A pokémon shouldn't have to suffer just because their trainer can't pay a fee," Killua goes on. "It's not right."

"Well, no. But maybe if there was a small free, some trainers would not let their pokémon battle so recklessly," Kurapika suggests. Killua responds with a frown and breathes in deeply for a very intense reply, when Gon interrupts.

"So are we going in or are we going to keep standing here?" He shifts his weight from one foot to another. All this waiting and doing nothing is making him antsy. Kurapika would not mind getting out of the rain either, but if he is honest, he doesn't want the kids around for this.

It's not that they're not capable, on the contrary. But Gon and Killua have all the enthusiasm and carelessness of youth, and not a single shred of restraint to balance it. The last thing he needs is for them to stumble through the ruins of his past. Still, he cannot bear to tell them to go back and look for a more pleasant challenge, because the boys did not come here to take on Team Skull. They're looking for Killua's sister, who ran away from home months ago to follow him to Alola.

It was just a cruel twist of fate that their search had led them here.

"Alright," Kurapika says, with an air of finality. "Let's go."

_The soft purple carpet swallowed the sound of Kurapika's steps as he descended the winding staircase of the elder's manor. A pokéball was nestled in his cupped hands and he held it close, like something fragile. It was heavier than he imagined to be and why wouldn't it? The little sphere contained a world of its own, big enough to house pokémon of all sizes and shapes. He had always wondered just how it worked, but today, Kurapika was more in awe of what was inside the ball._

_His very first pokémon, his partner and maybe, one day, his friend._

_He was a trainer now, free to take on the island challenge. And then, maybe-_

_Kurapika stumbled as his foot comes down hard on the floor, where he expected yet another step. He stopped, and took in his surroundings with a little more care, as if he expected yet another part of the mansion to turn against him. It was then that he heard a noise quite like a howl. _

_It did not sound like any pokémon he knew. Kurapika was instantly intrigued._

_He checked to his left and right, if he could see the elder's secretary afoot and when all seemed clear, he turned and headed to the back of the mansion, which led to the garden. And there, nestled between two hedges cut like Soodowoodo, he found the source. Not a pokémon but a boy, freckled and dark-haired and gangly. He had his knees drawn to his chest and his face buried against his knees and he cried and sniffled like his world was about to end. A Comfey was hovering by his head, trilling and cooing at him anxiously. _

_Kurapika knew that boy. He and his mother had moved into town not a week ago._

_"What's with you?", Kurapika asked._

_The boy looked up with pink, puffy eyes and glared. And then his attention shifted from Kurapika's face to the pokéball in his hands._

_"Your starter?", the kid asked. His voice cracked a little._

_Kurapika nods._

_"Did you get to choose?"_

_"Of course not!", Kurapika says with a startled little laugh. "The elder picked my partner for me." As was tradition in their little town. He knew that in the other towns, it was the kahuna of each island who provided starter pokémon for the children that set out for the trials, but the pokémon were handed out in groups of three and what if you were the child who got to pick last? No, Kurapika believed that the custom of his people was fairer. Although he could tell from the sour face of his neighbor that he disagreed._

_"The elder puts a lot of thought into his choices, and he only picks a pokémon if he is sure that it is a good fit." Kurapika runs his thumb over the top of his pokéball. The elder had handed him his Minior with the words: 'so that you may become strong and resilient, but know when to let your guard down. And may you never lose the light on your heart.'_

_"Yeah, well obviously he made a mistake with mine," the kid spat and swatted at his Comfey. The pokémon wrapped around his wrist, cooing. "I mean, do I look like a nurse? How am I going to win a single battle with such a useless pokémon? It can't even evolve, so it's not going to become much stronger than it is now."_

_Kurapika was glad, then, that the Comfey could not understand its trainer's words, although he suspected that it might still feel the disappointment and resentment. He had half a heart to turn around and leave his neighbor stewing in his awful mood. But he stayed, wanting to argue on Comfey's behalf._

_"Actually, fairy type pokémon are pretty useful to have because they're one of the few types that are strong against dragons. Some may look dainty but they're cunning and they have quite powerful special attacks-"_

_"Easy for you to say." The boy scoffs and stands up, brushing dirt off the bottom of his shorts. "You're a girl, no one's gonna look at you funny if you have such an embarrassing pokemon."_

_The words hit like a punch in the gut._

_"I'm not a girl," Kurapika says. The other boy eyes him suspiciously in a way that makes his skin crawl._

_"Yeah, well, sorry, you kinda look like one."_

_"You know what, I've had it with your attitude. You want to be a trainer? Then let's have a battle."_

_The battle fifteen minutes, but they felt like forever. _

_Kurapika's Minior only knew Tackle and Defense Curl while Comfey knew four moves already. And for all his moping and whining, Kurapika's opponent actually knew how to make the most out of them. He used Leech Seed to sap Minior's health steadily while boosting Comfey's defense with flower shield. And as soon as Minior's HP dropped so low that it discarded its shell, Comfey attacked with Vine Whip._

_Kurapika didn't cry when Minior fainted. He did not betray a single emotion when his opponent cried out in triumph, and hugged his Comfey close, but gently. More gently than he had ever treated his pokémon before._

_Kurapika took his starter and went home. His hands shook with anger, his teeth worried his lip until it was sore and bloody. He didn't crumble and falter until he was face to face with his parents and his best friend, who had all gathered in the living room with cake. To celebrate this special day._

_He tried to speak but his voice cracked. And then the tears and the words came pouring like a flood, until his cheeks burned with shame. To have lost against a boy who didn't care, who did not value anything. That was the moment when Kurapika promised himself that he would get revenge. And that he would never lose against this horrible boy ever again._

_No._

_That wasn't enough._

_He promised himself that he was going to become stronger, stronger than anybody else, so he would never lose a pokémon battle again. And for years, he kept that promise._

Kurapika watches as Gon and Killua tease each other, the poking, the 'are you scaaaaared?', the shuffling and scuffling. They have eyes only for another and thus do not worry about the mold stains that have eaten into the wallpaper or the stability of the stairs.

Kurapika tries not to be envious of their friendship. Their rivalry.

To have a rival - a true rival - is an enticing thing. It makes you feel special, important, larger-than-life. There's nothing quite like it. It's a race to the top, yes, but it's also the fast-paced dance of two trainers who challenge one another to become a better person, a stronger trainer. 

Some rivals choose each other. Some are drawn to one another, like two wandering stars in the sky, headed for collision. You may feel true kinship for your rival, you may hate their guts, but you cannot deny that they are special to you.

Kurapika never asked for a rival. Did not ask for this grumpy, dissatisfied boy with his volatile temper and his fragile self-esteem because he didn't need that in his life. But if you walked the same paths, and kept charging into the same obstacles and trials, you may get to know another person as well as yourself. Their motives, their aspirations, the source of their anger. And in turn, you have someone who sees you, as you truly are. 

By the end of your journey you will both be different people, more mature, _evolved_. This experience forges a bond between you that can never be severed.

Kurapika can still feel it tug on his chest, whenever he thinks back to the day when he and his rival parted ways for the last time. How sure he'd been that they meet again, because they always did.

It's been six years since then. Six years without a word, a phone call, a single sign of life.

Kurapika puts his hand in his pocket and reaches for the clunky old phone that he picked up in the Paladiknight's abandoned house. It's a child's phone, shaped like a Heracross and the battery must have died years ago, no chance of survival. He isn't sure why he picked it up, because even if he can put the SIM card in a new phone, he does not now the necessary combination to unlock it. But he used to have the same model and the familiar weight and feeling of the phone pressed against his palm makes him nostalgic.

Mrs. Paladiknight has moved to Malie City by now, according to Kurapika's parents. Once they dealt with Team Skull, he will make some time to find her.

Killua lets out a single, abrupt bout of laughter that tears through Kurapika's thoughts like a well-aimed stick through cobwebs. He shushes the boy, reminds him that they're trying to remain undetected - they're only three against Arceus knows how many Team Skull grunts. They cannot risk the health of their pokémon if they want to confront Tonpa. They have potions, yes, but if a pokémon cannot rest properly in between battles, it will get exhausted and perform worse in battle. Accuracy and speed will suffer.

"What's so funny anyway?", Kurapika hisses.

Killua points at a wall of graffiti. It displays the usual combination of crude dick sketches and cruder insults, mixed with slogans like 'all cops are bastards' and phrases of poetry, scribbled in sharpie. He runs his finger along one of the lines, trying not to think too hard about the mold that might lurk underneath, and says: "Weird, how you can find beauty even in the most run down places."

"Yeah, sure. Beauty," Killua snickers and fetches a pen from his backpack. He pulls off the cap with his teeth to add his very own dick drawing to the collection.

"Really now," Kurapika says. "How very mature."

Gon perks up and cups a hand around his ear. "Guys, do you hear that?"

Killua's hand stills and his bows furrow in concentration. Kurapika strains his ears, too, but all he can hear is the steady rhythm of the rain drumming against the windows.

Gon takes a step forward, closing his eyes. He raises a finger as if to call for their attention... and then he points to where the hallway takes a sharp turn to the left. "There!", he shouts triumphantly and breaks into a sprint.

"Gon, what the-" Killua starts, capping his pen and then he falls silent because he, too, spots the dark shape thar crawls at the turn of the hallway. The thing jumps and squawks as it sees Gon approach, and skitters away.

"That's just a Salandit," Killua complains, but he stuffs the pen in his bag and begins to follow in a hurried stride, not quite alarmed enough to run.

"No," Kurapika disagrees, his mind racing over all that he knows about the Pokemon. It's a poison and fire type, peculiar because only the much rarer females could evolve. Most commonly found around the Wela Volcano park because they prefer a _dry_ habitat. "That's a lookout."

He starts running.

_For once, Leorio was not crying, but the way he grimaced when he sat down on the soft beach made Kurapika think that it was a close call._

_"Did you catch one already?", he asked, and tried to sound as bored as possible. _

_Leorio smacked his lips and squinted up at the afternoon sun. His cheeks were stained dark with volcano ash that collected in the wrinkles around his mouth and nose and made him look like the mask of an old man had been stamped onto his face. "Nah. Figured it wasn't worth it. I mean, do you know how hot a Magby is? Really hot. And I caught a Fletchling, which eventually evolves into a fire type, so-"_

_"So you have a pokemon that is four times as weak to rock types?", Kurapika teased and scooted closer, bumping his shoulder against Leorio's. _

_"I'm just saying it's easier to handle, that's all." Leorio glowers and fiddles with the wristband of his watch. The rubber was showing first signs of cracks and tears. If you payed attention, you could tell that everything about Leorio just looked a little bit worn. His socks were a little too thin around the toes and heels, his shorts only reached to the mid of his thighs because puberty made him grow like a weed and he never invested in a new wardrobe._

_"What about a Salandit?", Kurapika suggested. He leaned a little heavier against his friend, until their upper arms were all but smooshed together. Leorio's skin was sticky and he didn't smell so nice either, but Kurapika didn't mind. He was comfortable like this._

_"That one's, like, four times weak to ground."_

_"True, but it has this shifty grin that reminds me of your face whenever you get your hands on coupons."_

_"Oh fuck off," Leorio gives him a light shove. "That grin is gonna be the last thing you see before I wipe the floor with your team."_

_Kurapika blew the bangs out of his forehead. "You wish. Oh, by the way..." Kurapika pulls his bagpack between his legs and opens the biggest pocket, careful, so as not to spill any of the pokéballs he bought. He pretends not to see the way Leorio's face twists in envy. Pretends not to hear the irritation when his rival says: "Geez, Peeks, you tryna catch an army?"_

_"I like to be prepared," Kurapika replied coolly and picked up four white premier balls. "But they keep giving me these free samples and I don't really like the color of them. Want to take them off my hands?"_

_"I-" Leorio said and brushed a thumb over the fuzz on his upper lip. His brow twitched and Kurapika could almost see the way Leorio's pride and his need waged war against another. He wasn't really in a position to refuse and they both knew it, but that didn't mean that it was easy for him to accept._

_Leorio's progress in the island challenge was significantly slowed down by the fact that he had very little money. Which meant that he didn't have the means to catch quite as many pokémon, which made it just a little harder to put together a team specifically for the trials. He lost precious time running back to the PokéCenter after each battle because he could not afford potions._

_None of this was his fault, of course. His mother had spent most of their family's savings to move to Alola, to have a fresh start, far, far away from Leorio's father. But the farther they came, the more Leorio seemed to fall behind._

_(How long has it been since they last compared the amount of pokédex entries they had made? Kurapika didn't recall.)_

_Eventually, Leorio took the pokéballs._

_"You know," Kurapika said, "Paniola Ranch isn't far from here. They have a pokémon nursery we can check out. I heard that sometimes, they have eggs for trainers to adopt."_

_Leorio made a non-commital noise of agreement._

_"And I thought of catching a Lilipup for my dad. Since they are good at finding stuff and he keeps misplacing his glasses." _

_They were also exceedingly skilled at picking up useful items from the ground. A good fit for Leorio, in Kurapika's opinion. He may not have years of insight and experience like his town's elder, but he feels that in many ways, a Lilipup would have been a better, easier starter for Leorio. Strong, loyal, easily dismissed because it was a normal type, but it had a lot of potential to grow. Plus, a Lilipup would have reminded him of home._

_"Did you know that they're originally from Unova?", Leorio said just as Kurapika mulled over the fact._

_"I had no idea," Kurapika replied, dryly. He didn't mean to be sarcastic about it and luckily, the other boy didn't find anything strange about his tone. Leorio's eyes lit up, as they always did when he spoke of Unova._

_"Yeah. Lots of people keep them as pets and they're good watch pokémon, which is probably how they came to Alola. But they're pretty tough fighters, too. My mom is friends with Lenora, the lady who runs the Nacrene city gym and she has a Herdier that sent many a trainer home-"_

_He went on, losing himself in his memories, and Kurapika watches __his rival, his _friend,_ from the corner of his eye. Lost in his recollections, Leorio always seemed a little taller, a little more confident._

_"One day," Leorio said and threw his arm around Kurapika's shoulder, pulling him closer. "I'm gonna take you there. And then I'll show you everything."_

_"I don't think that's such a good idea," Kurapika said and he smiled and couldn't stop smiling as his heart beat wildly and fondness flushed through his veins, hot and tingling._

_"And why not?", Leorio laughed._

_"Because I'd conquer it. All of it. And you'd have to watch as I beat every gym and then the Pokémon League."_

_"Well, you better watch your back then because I'll be right behind you."_

_"You better. I'm counting on it."_


	2. Chapter 2

Leorio worries.

He's good at that - he had a whole life of practice - and it comes in handy when you're the guy who instructs all the newcomers, in an organisation that is kind of a mess, consisting of people that are kind of a mess. 

The house is just an extension of that. Here in Team Skull, nobody really has their shit together and if it wasn't for Leorio organizing and delegating chores, the whole place would've gone to shit long, long time ago.

Leorio worries, most of all about what will become of the organization if he ever leaves.  _ When _ , he corrects himself, because fuck, this ain't the kind of job to grow old in. In fact, this ain't a job at all. Going around harassing people for money, harassing pokemon out of frustration. The folks that come to Team Skull, they all got one thing in common: they have nowhere else to go, nothing else to do. Desperation can make you do funny things. And not knowing if you'll have food on the table tomorrow doesn't help either.

It's no environment for a kid.

Leorio scratches his stubbly jaw and sits down on the edge of a lumpy mattress, looking over the sleeping form of the new girl. He supposes that going by age, she can't be called a kid anymore. But her eyes still have that spark, that unbridled excitement. Whatever brought her here in the first place hasn't stripped her of her positive attitude yet; she is a ray of sunshine in this dreary rain-soaked town.

It makes him want to take her away.

The girl, Alluka, shivers in her sleep. Leorio takes off his cheap sports jacket and drapes it over her shoulders. The Sylveon curled to her chest stirs; it looks at him drowsily with its big blue eyes, lets out a confused 'mrp' and then nestles its head in the crook of the girl's neck. 

He ought to wake her. It's almost time for their watch to start.

But she's been training all night, trying to bond with her newly caught Surskit and teach it some new moves. Five more minutes surely will not hurt anybody and besides, he still needs some more time to figure out how to best introduce her to the boss. It's going to look real weird if he doesn't do it soon. He'll be damned if he lets the boss know about that one weird pokémon of hers though.

Leorio reaches under the bed and pulls out a gym bag, carefully, so as not to disturb the cloud of nebula that sits within.

"Pew?", the pokémon says and the two blue tufts of cloud on top of it sway curiously left, then right. Its golden eyes glint playfully.

"Just what are you?", Leorio whispers, frustrated, and stares at the stars that glisten in the pokémon’s form until his eyes start to hurt. He's never seen this one before, not here in Alola and certainly not in Unova. His 'dex labels it 'Cosmog', no habitat listed, and based on the number of the entry, it must be a recent discovery. Maybe even the only one of his kind.

Alluka calls it  _ Nanika _ .

Whatever it is, it can be pretty damn dangerous. 

Leorio first met Alluka and Nanika when he scourged the abandoned Thrifty Megamart for scraps. It was a good place for picking up supplies if you didn't mind the fact that it was incredibly haunted and if you didn't let yourself be discouraged by things like expiration dates. (It was a little known fact that most potions still worked long past the expiration date, although they might lose a bit of their potency, not to mention that they started stinking a bit like Liepard piss.)

Now, when Leorio arrived, there was already a racket going on. The megamart was home to a trio of mischievous ghastlys who loved playing tricks on tourists and on that very day, they had gotten quite curious about  _ that _ pokémon. Cosmog. They just wanted to play, but the thing with Ghastlies is, they play rough. And they liked to lick stuff, which does not always agree with the creature that's being licked.

Leorio spotted Alluka first, her lavender sundress a spot of color in the dark and dusty supermarket. She was lying on the floor, her limbs convulsing as the paralysis set in, and Leorio broke into a sprint, hollering.

He remembers the that the ghost pokémon stopped wagging their tongues to grin at him. And then he saw the sparkling nebula hovering above the girl's body, mere seconds before the world exploded in a ball of blue light. The shockwave sent Leorio flying back into a shelf, knocking the air out of his lungs, and shattered what was left of the windows.

It was powerful. Dangerous.

Not the kind of force he wants to see in their boss's hands.

But for all of the destruction it can bring, Nanika looks just inconspicuous with its big eyes and the wiggly plumes on top of it and as far as Leorio can tell, it does not obey to commands, not for lack of its trainer's skill. Whatever attack it had blasted on that day, it had been a panic reaction. 

(That doesn't change the fact that Leorio's back still hurts from the incident.)

The sound of nails skittering over the hard floor catches Leorio's attention, as well as Nanika's, and he looks up, just as his Salandit slithers into view in the doorframe. It sprints to Leorio's feet and gets up on its hind legs, little arms flailing about as it makes some agitated noises. Which could only mean one thing, really.

"Do we have some unplanned visitors?", he asks and Salandit almost vibrates with anxiety. It's tail lights up with a flickering flame. Leorio holds out a hand and grabs it by the muzzle, to calm it down.

(He has a talent for meeting - and catching - nervous pokémon. First Salandit, then Wimpod... Leorio half suspects that they are drawn by Comfey's calming scent, but it's not like you can tell a pokémon's personality upon meeting them.)

"Alright, buddy, shhhh, it's gonna be fine. We'll deal with it."  _ Somehow _ , he thinks, but does not say out loud. He takes a glance at Cosmog. "You'll stay with her, right?"

It lets out a sweet little trill that he takes to be a yes. Then he bows over Alluka and shakes her gently by the shoulders until she starts to stir. Her big blue eyes flutter open, and settle on him slowly, still hazy with drowsiness.

"Leorio?", she asks and rubs her eyes like a child, smudging mascara crumbs all over her lids. "Is it time for our watch already?"

"Something came up. Intruders. I want you and Nanika to hide, do you understand me?"

Alluka blinks a few times. "Oh," she says. Then "oh" again, as her brain catches up with her ears and she sits up. "But I wanna help! My team is ready, I promise. Look, I even evolved Surskit last night, I, um..." She pats down the mattress, as if she had left her pokéballs on the bed. "My bag-" she starts and Leorio takes her by the shoulders until she looks into his eyes.

"Listen, princess, I really appreciate you trying to help, but you know we have rules. And I know I haven't gotten around to teach you all of them yet, but, you... we're a team, right, and the boss would like to know what kind of pokemon we got among us. To, uh, see if they match our image and all. And he doesn't like it if we evolve our pokemon just willy-nilly, because.... because then the police will start to keep an eye on us. Do you understand? The weaker we appear, the more likely they'll just see us as a nuisance and not a threat. Because let's face it, sometimes the others pull some real stupid stuff."

It was a good lie; Leorio himself had believed it for the first year after he joined Team Skull, despite the nagging thought at the back of his mind that it wasn't quite right for one man to decide how other trainers should compose their teams. Of course, it wasn't about their image at all. It was about control. It was about making sure that no one else among the team became strong enough to challenge the boss. That's why Tonpa, who favored bug type pokemon, didn't like to see flying types. That's why he gathered all the Buginium Z to hoard it like a dragon in his lair. That's why he gave Leorio the direct order to not evolve his Wimpod if he wanted to keep it in his team, because Golisopod was Tonpa's best pokemon and it was big and intimidating and demanded respect - until you realized that despite its big, hunking size, it was still just a big wimp.

"So...", Alluka starts, rubbing her wrist absently. "Does that mean I might have to change the composition of my team?"

"No," he says without missing a beat. "There's nothing wrong with your team, princess. Just... maybe we should keep Nanika a secret, alright?" Sylveon, Audino, and Masquerain. They erred on the cute side, easy to underestimate, and aside from Masquerain, they didn't have types that were inherently effective against bug pokémon.

Alluka nods. She picks up her gym bag and tells Cosmog to hide in it, then calls Sylveon back into its ball. She looks around the room with a critical eye, scanning all the nooks and crannies, when she asks: "Leorio? What kind of person is Tonpa?"

Leorio is a good enough actor if he has a role to play, if he can pretend to be someone else. And he is skilled at making excuses for others, but when it comes to  _ lies _ \- well, he is far too easy to read, the conflict written all over his face. So he knows better than to try.

"Alluka, we don't have time for that now. Please hide. I'll fetch you later, I promise."

She must have heard something in the tone of his voice because from one moment to the next, she starts to rush herself. She makes a grab for the few of her belongings that she left scattered around the room - her hair ties, a romance novel, a bag of toiletries - and stuffs then into her bag without worrying about orderliness. Almost like she had experience at running away in the spur of a moment.

"I'll be hiding in the closet," she says and Leorio almost replies with a joke. It sits on the tip of his tongue, ready to tumble out, but he knows better.

Instead, he nods and pulls the kerchief over his mouth. He calls Salandit back into its pokéball, and peeks out into the hallway. It is clear, but he can hear the sound of hushed whispers. Leorio dives into the next room, to rouse the other members and inform them that they have visitors.

He is met with blank stares.

"Go out and challenge them, now!", he bellows. "Or you can explain to the boss why we let a bunch of kids waltz right into our base."

That gets them moving. They scatter like Ratata, bumping into furniture, bumping into one another, but eventually they spread out, each of them assuming a post where they lounge semi-casually, ready to battle.

Leorio can only hope that they're dealing with kids, though. There isn't really much left of Po town, so the most visitors they get are young trainers on their island challenge who came here on a dare. But they had a few run-ins with the folks from Aether foundation lately. Nothing big, just a few disagreements, but there is something about those white clad nerds that makes him uneasy.

Leorio opens a window and swings his legs over the ledge and hops down onto the lawn. He lands in a crouch, water splashing around his shoes. Keeping his head low, he starts to run.

The rest of the team should slow the intruders down for a while, giving him just enough time to catch these little shits from behind. And then he'd teach them a lesson and send them home.

When they came around the corner, the Salandit had already disappeared and they face an empty corridor that takes yet another turn.

The hallway has a lot of doors. They check behind each one of them but all they find is messy, stale-smelling rooms.

Then they hear muffled shouting and feet shuffling and they know that the news of their arrival has spread. When they step onto the hallway again, it has filled with Team Skull grunts, lounging about as if they had done nothing else all day. Some are leaning against the wall in a manner that's probably supposed to be suave, others are squatting in front of the rooms like watchful Herdiers.

"Damn," Killua says, as all heads turn towards them. "So much for sneaking in, huh. What now?"

"We battle," Gon says and his whole face lights up. He picks up a pokéball and presses the button in the center; it grows in size until it fits neatly into his palm.

Kurapika grabs both of the boys by the back of their shirts and pulls them closer. He lowers his voice. "We came here to find something, remember? I suggest we deal with these punks, then split up to search the other rooms. It shouldn't take too long."

Leorio slips on the wet grass and stumbles forward, but catches himself just in time. And forces himself to take smaller, more cautious steps, suddenly mindful of his white shorts. Not purely out of vanity - he is the boss's right hand and so he represents the whole team. Mud-stained knees and shoes don't quite fit with the threatening aura they aspire.

But caution or not, he cannot stop the  _ rain _ . By the time he reaches the front door, he is drenched, the side of his sneakers caked with sand and soil. Well. Nothing to do about that now.

He rushes up the stairs to warn the members that have been posted by the boss' throne room. Then he runs back, his stomach dropping as the steps under his feet all blur together, but he can't let that stop him either.

Only a few minutes have passed since he fled through the window. He dashes into the hallway - and finds a mess. His teammates are sitting on the floor and slump against the walls, each face more dejected than the next. Pokkle is crying so hard that a stream of snot runs from his nose while his girlfriend, Ponzu, tries her best to calm him down, no matter that her own eyes are covered in make up smears. She clutches a passed out combee to her chest. The air smells singed.

"Hey, what the fuck," Leorio says. "I left you for only a few minutes-"

It's the wrong thing to say. Some of them start sobbing, trying to choke out apologies for letting him down, as if he's the one they should worry about. (The boss will be so pissed once he finds out, and there's no helping that.)

"What happened?", Leorio asks, opening his arms wide in a gesture of exasperation.

"I'm sorry, big bro," Pokkle starts and wipes his nose with his wrist. "There were three of them, all challenging us at the same time. And they were so strong, we didn't stand a chance."

"Two of them had a full balanced team, from what I could see," Ponzu adds. "They knocked out my pokémon with only one attack each."

Leorio balls his hands to fist, and takes a deep breath. "How old were they?", he asks, fighting for composure.

"I think they were teens." Pokkle's voice cracks and he does not dare meet Leorio's eyes. "One of them might've been like twenty. They looked like they were searching something."

_ Teens _ . Just a bunch of somewhat experienced trainers. Who had the money and the freedom to build a full strong team. 

It wasn't  _ fair _ .

"It's not your fault," Leorio says. His words do little to wash away the shame that he can see in the faces of his dumb little teammates. He hates being so powerless, he hates being weak and he hates to see the others suffer for it. "I'll deal with it. Where'd they go?"

The gang all points towards different doors.

"They split up," Ponzu explains. 

Leorio calls up Salandit again - because it hates being trapped in its ball just as much as it hates rain and people tend to flinch away from it.

Anger burns sour in his stomach, as he steps past his fallen comrades, heading for the nearest door, but it's not even the kids he's angry at. Their whole gang shouldn't have been  _ wiped out  _ by three bored trainers. And even if he defeats them now, or scares them off, others might come. And they would be just as helpless thanks to the rules that forced them to keep their teams small, their pokémon weak. Because their boss is afraid of a mutiny, they are left defenseless.

...So what if he doesn't stop the intruders?

Leorio's hand wraps around the door handle and he lingers for just a moment, entertaining the idea.

What if he let these trainers slip past and leave it to the boss to defeat them? It was Tonpa's damn job to protect them, after all, and if he saw for himself how strong his challengers were, he might be persuaded to do away with some of these rules. The plan only has one critical flaw: it requires Tonpa's victory. And the boss had a team of all bug type pokémon. Highly unbalanced.

Leorio opens the door, making barely a sound, and pushes into the room.

A young man is rummaging through a cupboard, his back turned towards the entrance. He wears the blue track suit of an ace trainer that looks a little too big on his lanky frame and his voluminous silver blond hair looks like a cloud floating above his neck.

Leorio lets the door slam shut and the intruder spins around, picking a pokéball from his belt with the speed of a cowboy drawing his colt.

"Looking for something?", Leorio asks with an aggressively sweet tone. Salandit sits down next to his feet and hisses in solidarity.

The ace trainer narrows his eyes. "Me? Not really. But you look like you want to get your ass handed, just like your friends." His accent is melodious and his expression a bit too cocky to be taken seriously.

Leorio smiles. "I want to see you try." His mood rises considerably knowing that his opponent is an asshole; that makes it very easy for him to discard any remaining qualms.

"Gladly."

The boy summons an alolan Raichu and the air in the little room grows heavy, crackling with electricity. Salandit squawks and darts behind Leorio's legs like the big coward that it is, which is just as well. Leorio picks up a pokéball and tosses it up in the air, playfully. "You don't sound like you're from around these parts. Where are you from, Kanto?"

"None of your business, pops. So what, are you gonna fight or are you gonna stall like a coward?"

Leorio regards his opponent's stance, leaning forward, one heel raised like he means to jump into a sprint. An impatient guy, quick to insult. The kind of trainer who might pursue a predominately offensive strategy, relying on heavy hitting attacks. 

Leorio calls up his Piloswine.

Kurapika finds himself in a dark bedroom. His minior is floating in the air, its exposed core shedding a soft pink glow on everything, which only adds to make the surroundings appear like something out of a horror film. The bed is unmade, the mattress lumpy, and paint flakes off the metal frame. Clothes and empty potion bottles lie on the floor, along with a ribbon. A desk stands in front of the window, pens and stray sheets of paper littered across its surface as if someone had knocked them all over... in a fight perhaps?

It smells like the bedroom of a teenage boy: a little stuffy, a little stale and a sharp note of deodorant as if someone had tried to poorly mask all the other bad smells with it.

Kurapika wants to turn on his heels and leave before he suffocates, but he walks to the desks instead and opens the window, just a crack. Some water drips on the windowsill, but the breeze that drifts in and strokes his heated cheeks is well worth it. He breathes in deeper, and plants his hands firmly on the desk in an attempt to root himself.

Years ago, this was Pairo's room. And as long as Kurapika can remember, this room was kept as immaculate as a museum's exhibit. Every little thing had its own defined place where it had to be returned, a rule that was enforced more and more strictly with the decline of Pairo's vision. To leave it in such a mess - 

Ah, but it doesn't matter, does it?

Because Pairo is not coming back. Pairo has found his place in Kalos, running a Skiddo farm with his tall, handsome fiancé. Kurapika's eyes fall on a picture frame that lies face-down on the desk. He picks it up, and turns it in his hands. But the photograph under that pane of glass does not belong to Pairo.

It is a wide shot of Hano beach. A person is standing at the waterfront, their short blond hair gathered in a tiny ponytail at the back of their head. Wispy strands frame their face as they look out into the open sea, a content smile on their lips-

Kurapika remembers the day it was shot. He remembers  _ click-whirr _ of the Rotomdex catching his attention.

_ "I hope you're not taking pictures of me, because then I'd have to murder you." _

It was the summer after they had completed their island challenge and they spent it on Akala Island because that's where you could find the best part-time jobs. Hano resort always needed some extra hands: waiting tables, chucking Pyukumuku back into the sea, that kind of stuff. But even then Kurapika had known that none of these jobs would help him save the money he needed for his surgery.

_ "I just wanted to commemorate this beautiful Pyukumuku-free view." _

No, he had needed something bigger. The kind of money that came with winning a big tournament. A champion's prize money. He needed to conquer a pokémon league.

_ "Uh-huh. You better delete that picture." _

_ "Relax, you aren't even in the shot." _

_ "Really? Let me see." _

_ "No!" _

_ "You’re such a bad liar, Leorio." _

Why is this picture here, in this run down mansion? Had it been taken by one of the Skull grunts? Judging by the state of the other houses in town, they have been thoroughly ransacked for supplies by members of Team Skull, but why would someone take a picture that meant nothing to them?

Thunder tears the skies. Kurapika's heart jumps in his throat; he drops the frame. Minior hides in its shell and the room turns pitch black until there is nothing but the rush of the rain and the house groaning and shrieking in the storm.

He wants to go home.

"Minior," Kurapika calls and he hates how small and thin his voice sounds. "It's fine. It was just some noise-"

Another groan, like floorboards bending under a heavy weight. Kurapika slips his backpack off one shoulder and fumbles for the zipper. Minior pushes against his shoulder, trying to bury its heavy body against Kurapika's chest. "I'm telling you,  _ it's fine _ ," he hisses, impatient, but Minior has known him for fourteen years now. It feels his uncertainty and responds with anxious little tremors.

Kurapika plunges his hand into the bag until it closes around a flashlight. He turns it on and lets the beam of light trail across the room. A person stands by the door, as sudden as if she had risen out of the darkness. Kurapika freezes.

Her hair is long and tousled, after the fashion of the hex maniac girls, but she wears white shorts that reach to her knees and the black tank top of a team skull member. No cap, no neckerchief, no chain around her neck.

The girl raises her arm to shield herself from the bright light. A gym bag hangs from a shoulder; for a paranoid moment Kurapika is convinced that it moves.

Where did she come from? He hadn't heard or seen anyone enter, so- did she hide in here?

Her free hand fumbles blindly for the doorknob.

"Wait!"; Kurapika calls out. He takes a step closer and aims the flashlight away from her face. "Who are you?"

"No one. Leave me alone." She lowers her arm just a little. Her eyes have a light color, and her face - Kurapika recognizes her by the shape of her nose, the cadence of her voice, which are just like her brother's.

"Your name is Alluka, right? Alluka Zoldyck?"

"How do you know my name?", she asks, just confused enough to stay.

"I'm a friend of your brother. We're here to-"  _ to save you from Team Skull _ , he wants to say, but considering her outfit, he wonders if saving is what she needs. "We're here to get you. Are you alright? Team Skull didn't hurt you, did they?"

"Why would they? They're my friends."

"I doubt that," Kurapika says. Next to him, Minior's shell starts to fall off its core as its curiosity outweighs its fear. "Team Skull is dangerous, Alluka. I'm not sure what they want from you, or what they have offered you, but they cannot be trusted. They're criminals. They terrorize people and pokémon alike and their boss stole all the Buginium z-crystals. Please, come with me. I'll bring you to Killua."

"But-", she says and casts her eyes to the ground. Alluka clutches her bag tighter and a grove forms between her brows. "Is Killua close?"

"Just a few rooms away. We split up looking for you. And for the stolen Z-crystals," Kurapika adds, because if he is honest, he had not expected finding her here. The man who claimed seeing a girl matching Alluka's description with Team Skull has struck Kurapika as a shady character, eccentric at best. Then again, all high ranking Aether foundation members appeared to fall on a spectrum that reached from suffocatingly compassionate to mad scientist. Hisoka, with his bubblegum pink hair and his leering eyes definitely leaned towards the mad end of the scale.

Alluka's bag trembles visibly now; its contents shift and bulge, like something is trying to escape from it. Blue light spills through the teeth of the zipper, which eases open - and a cloud bursts forward, towards Minior. It doesn't have time to raise its shell before the impact - but before they can collide, the cloud changes course and starts to orbit around Minior. It slows down; the pokémon dance in the middle of the room like two moons of equal size caught in each other's gravitational field. The world is dyed in shades of pink and blue and purple.

"Oh," Alluka says and tugs at the end of her ponytail. "They seem to like each other. That's strange. Most pokémon are afraid of Nanika."

Kurapika says nothing. He consults his pokédex - a quiet model, that has not housed a Rotom ever since he left for Kalos - and it names the strange space borne creature  _ Cosmog _ . He has never heard of this pokémon, cannot recall a single book where it might have been mentioned, and Kurapika has read a lot of books.

There's something about Cosmog that makes the air feel heavier, too. Goosebumps spread over his arms.

And then he hears Killua scream for Gon.

Raichu. Jolteon. Luxio. Joltik. Leorio's opponent procured four electric types, which did not last very long. And only after the last one fainted, he called an alolan Vulpix into battle. A smarter trainer would have used Vulpix sooner, to get a real chance at knocking out Piloswine, before it could obliterate the rest of his team.

The boy went on his knees to pick up his unconscious Vulpix, with a gentleness that Leorio had not expected, and he wonders if maybe this Vulpix was not meant to be sent into battle. Maybe it was just a companion.

Leorio feels almost sorry for this trainer. He runs a hand through his Piloswine's thick fur before giving it some hearty pats for a job well done. It grunts, a little tired, but barely injured. Thanks to its thick skin, not even the Vulpix gave it a hard time.

"Go home, kid," Leorio says. "There's nothing for you here. No trophies to win, no badges, hell, we don't even have spare items that you could take. If it's glory you want, you ain't gonna find it in this place." He calls Piloswine back and, after a quick moment of consideration, calls out his Comfey. He's not an ass after all, and the next free PokéCenter is quite a march away from Po Town.

Leorio says: "Look, if you promise me-"

He doesn't get any further. His opponent storms past him, shoulder bumping hard against Leorio's side. And as soon as he's out of the door, he starts raising hell, hollering "Gone!" loud enough to raise the Phantump from their graves. Loud enough to catch the boss' attention.

Leorio curses, and sprints after the teen.

As he tumbles into the hallway, nearly crashing into a team member, two more doors open. A kid spills out of one, hazel eyes, brown freckles, wild black hair, replying to the calls with a noise that sounds like 'Killua'. And then Alluka comes running out of the other room and behind her-

Leorio freezes.

Alluka cries for Killua. Killua cries for Alluka. They fall into an awkward embrace, trying not to crush Vulpix between them, but Leorio has no eyes for them and his voice dies in his throat as he stares the ghost of his past that lingers in the doorway facing him.

His eyes, appearing more grey than brown, widen.

"Leorio?", Kurapika asks, his voice sounding terribly small. And that can't be because Kurapika doesn't  _ do _ small.

Leorio wants to bolt, but before his legs remember how to move, Comfey lets out a delighted trill. It floats over to Kurapika and lays itself around his neck, like it used to

"Leorio, what are you doing here?"

"Kurapika, do you know this guy?", the freckly, wild-haired boy asks and a change ripples through the remaining members of Team Skull at the sound of that name. Their lips part and their eyes widen; the attention shifts toward the blond trainer in his light blue slacks and cream colored shirt, looking for all the world more like a teacher than a celebrity.

"Kurapika?", Ponzu asks. "As in the champion of Kalos?  _ That _ Kurapika?"

"'s been a while, hasn't it?" Leorio asks but his voice doesn't sound like his own. It seems to belong to someone cold, and collected. Someone who couldn't care less about the last five years. (Five years, ten months and seventeen days.) "I'm surprised to see you here. What happened, did your throne get cold?"

He can see the barb hit home. Can see how honey golden brows knit together and how Kurapika's mouth parts just slightly, as it always does when he wants to protest, but doesn't have all the words in his mind yet. Because Kurapika, unlike Leorio, knows how to think the right amount before he speaks.

Comfey makes a worried sound, picking up on Kurapika's distress and Leorio's anger. It starts to release a sweet smell, something that makes Leorio think of peaches and vanilla and honey. He could lean in and breathe a little deeper and know that part of his anger would evaporate then and there - the thing is, he doesn't want it to.

Kurapika swallows. "Leorio, please tell me you're not really with these people."

Leorio is lucky that his old rival just knows exactly what to say to piss him off more.  _ Oh, I'm sorry. Is my company not good enough for you? _ , he wants to ask but there is no way of doing that without sounding childish, immature, like the boy he used to be at the start of his pokémon adventure. Well, he's not that kid anymore.

He tugs at his neckerchief and flashes Kurapika a vicious grin, to show that he's serious. "I'll tell you what. You take your kids and get the hell out of here and you don't come back, and maybe I'll spare you "

"This is my  _ hometown _ ," Kurapika hisses. "How dare you tell me to leave. We're not here for you anyway-"

"Well, that's a real surprise," Leorio interrupts and Kurapika's focus crumbles. Comfey's scent grows even stronger, making it hard to think.

"We're here because your boss has a lot to answer for and we will not leave until we have confronted him," Kurapika concludes, squaring up his shoulders and balling his fists. Ready to fight. Stubborn as ever.

Leorio plucks a pokéball from his belt. "Then you leave me no choice." He makes a clucking noise and Comfey looks up. It hesitates, untangling itself from Kurapika's neck too slowly as if it expects him to change his mind. But it floats back to Leorio and curls up on the top of his head, letting out a distressed trill as if to say  _ I know you're not okay with this either _ .

And he's not! But Kurapika made a choice, all these years ago. He left and he stayed gone, even when he had made enough money with pokémon battles to pay for that medical procedure he needed. Obviously, he never gave a shit about how the rest of them had fared in his absence.

(Or maybe it's just Leorio he never bothered to check up on.)

"You really want to battle me?" Kurapika says. He doesn't add that Leorio has not won a single battle against Kurapika ever since their first meeting and he mercifully does not point out that he made a career out of defeating other trainers. He doesn't have to.

But what Kurapika does not know is that Leorio has followed each step of that career as well as he could. Analyzing every move, the strengths and weaknesses of his team. Kurapika still prefers an offensive technique while being meticulous about type balance. He doesn't know what Leorio has in stock, though.

He doesn't know, either, that Leorio is fully prepared to lose. Because it's not about winning. It has never been about winning.

"Let's see what you got,  _ champ _ ."


End file.
